Gotham City Apocalypse
by TheGhostOfTheLostBoys
Summary: Gotham has fallen. Batman and Robin are dead. Rās Al Ghūl has won, and invaded the city's streets. Now, only Nightwing, Red Hood, and a handful of abandoned heroes and former villains stand between him and total domination. Rated T for violence, adult themes, minor course language.
1. Chapter 1: Blood

**So, yeah, hey everyone. This is a major story involving multiple DC characters and taking inspiration from multiple different places, DC and otherwise, such as the storylines Batman: No Man's Land; Justice League: Cry For Justice; Teen Titans: It's Our Right To Fight; and Batman: War Games; the films The Dark Knight Rises and Batman: Gotham Knight; and the Batman: Arkham videogame series. I own none of these stories or characters, and I'll be uploading more chapters as they are written.**

**Yeah, and there's probably some offensive language in here, and quite a bit of potentially graphic violence and adult themes and references.**

**Also, side note: I'm still working on the Watchmen/Outsiders crossover story, but it's taking a while. Patience, my young grasshoppers, and enjoy this story :)**

**-TheGhostOfLostBoys **

_It's over, _he thought.

_For the night at least, we've done all we can._

But Dick knew it wasn't enough.

It was never enough.

Nightwing sat panting with his back against an old and broken brick wall, his suit damaged again, yet another tear in the old costume. There wasn't any way for him to get a replacement. Alfred had helped him make this suit.

And Alfred was dead now.

So was Bruce.

And Tim, and Damien, and Cass...and Babs.

Almost every one dead.

Rās Al Ghūl had won. He had the whole city in his pocket now, because he'd killed the Bat.

The Demon's Head had spent months planning his attacks. But when they finally came, they were beyond bad. They were brutal. He'd simply set off a hundred and twenty bombs all across Gotham city. Some were napalm, others were poison gas. The rest was plain and simple nitroglycerin.

Two and a half million people, including Alfred, Selina Kyle, and Commisioner Gordon, were dead in seconds. All Rās had needed left was to kill Batman. He did so on national television, unmasking him and Damien at the same time as their throats were cut.

Dick, Jason, and Babs had been lucky. They'd been in New York when the bombs went off, but they raced back when they saw the broadcast showing Bruce and Damien's death.

They'd come back to a city of chaos.

Rās had taken over everything. His army of ninjas and mercenaries patrolled the streets, and civilians were herded into concentration camps.

The Justice League came soon after.

They hoped to save the city.

They were doomed to fail. Rās had spent years planning this, he didn't leave anything to chance.

Most of the League was dead within days.

The government and the other heroes soon gave up trying to fight their way in, and Gotham was left to it's fate. Shut off from the world.

Abandoned.

_No Man's Land all over again, _thought Nightwing as he struggled to start running again.

Everybody was gone, except for Nightwing and a few others.

Red Hood, Static Shock, Riddler, Harley Quinn, Anarky, Bane, Deadshot, and Killer Moth.

Even the city's few remaining criminals had realised they stood no chance of survival without help.

They weren't the Justice League, but it was something.

Basing themselves out of the abandoned asylum on Arkham Island, they instigated riots and breakouts in the prisoner camps, evacuated civilians to Metropolis and New York, and launched attacks using gurerilla tactics.

But Nightwing knew that they'd lost the fight tonight.

Bane was dead.

Killer Moth was dying.

Everyone was bleeding and bruised and running for their lives, machine-gun fire shattering windows and sending up dirt and pieces of debris around them as they ran through the East End.

Nightwing yelled for the others to run and he'd catch up, though he wasn't sure he would. Ghūl's mercenaries were only a little behind them as they rushed trough the crumbling and twisting city back-alleys. Nightwing took a hard left, then came up on three soldiers facing the other way. A burst of panicked gunfire and the sounds of fists brutally inpacting echoed through the alleyway, then they were on the ground. Nightwing then took a grenade from one of them, and ran on.

Dick knew perfectly well that, in all likelihood, he was about to die. He didn't care, he had a city to keep safe. Before he had died, Bruce had told him that he'd one day inherit the city. The people would grow to see Nightwing the same ways they'd seen Batman. Dick was still unsure if that was a good things.

He pulled the pin on the grenade and threw it in a alley filled with mercenaries as he ran past, quickly reaching the subway entrance. The boom shuddered behind him.

Rushing down the steps into the darkness, Dick looked around for signs that Harley and the others had made it. Fresh blood had dripped on the floor, and a women's muddy bootprint could be nearby.

Killer Moth's blood, Harley's shoe, Dick thought. A little way along, he reached the main East End station, and saw Harley and Red Hood crouched over Moth's barely breathing form. Anarky was checking their emergency supplies, and Virgil Hawkins, aka Static, was guarding the door, giving Dick a nod as he walked into the station. Riddler was back on Arkham Island with the wounded Deadshot.

"How is he?" said Dick, inspecting Killer Moth's wounds. He'd been shot through the stomach and left leg. Sub-machine gun, mid range, Dick had survived worse.

"He's bleeding a little less, but if we don't get him to Arkham soon he'll die," said Harley. "What about the mercs chasin' us?"

"Dealt with. Have you called Riddler?"

"Yeah," said Red Hood. "The train should be here any second."

What many people were unaware of was an emergency evacuation subway tunnel going from Arkham Asylum to a select few subway stations. Riddler had been quick to point this out when they'd set up their base, and was now able to hijack and control them remotely with the Arkham computers.

They quickly moved Killer Moth into the train, before it started creaking it's way slowly to Arkham.

Moth was still bleeding, and phasing in and out of conciousness. Red Hood pulled off his helmet and sat down next to Anarky, panting with exhastion as he checked his own wounds.

Dick sat back and sighed, pulling off his mask. Secret identities were nothing, now, even in the presence of former enemies.

They were fighting the good fight, Dick knew that, but it was undeniably a losing battle.

They'd already lost Bane tonight, and in the past year they'd lost quite a few more.

Dick knew that, more than likely, they'd all be dead in a few weeks.


	2. Chapter 2: Asylum

Edward "Riddler" Nygma stood up and stretched, yawning. It was almost morning, and all night the other's had been running. The train had pulled into Arkham station a few hours ago, and Killer Moth was now in the surgical wing of Arkham's medical building with Harley, Dick, and Static doing all they could to save him. Floyd Lawton, aka Deadshot, and Anarky were asleep in the guard building, and Red Hood was down in the tunnel system beneath the asylum, having muttered something about "looking for answers." Edward was still in the guard building's IT and security station, having almost permenantly moved there. He had previously hacked into every still working camera in Gotham, and spied on the enemy's movements day and night.

He was exhasted. They all were. They'd been fighting for so long that Edward barely remembered his days as a "costumed super-villian." It had been only five months, but it felt like five years to Edward.

Dick walked through the door, more bloodstains on his uniform. Edward didn't want to ask if it was his or Killer Moths.

"How's Drury?" Edward asked.

"He's stabilized, for now. It was close, but he should heal up. The Killer Moth will rise again, I hope."

"Good," said Edward, sitting back down at his desk.

"Where's Jason?" asked Dick.

"The sewer system running under the asylum. He said something about looking for some old stuff."

"Some old stuff? What's he expect to find in a sewer?"

"Beats me, Nightwing," muttered Edward, before turning around. "What about Bane?"

"He died, Edward."

"Yeah, I know that, but what do we do about-"

Dick cut him off. He didn't want to hear it.

"Get Jason on the radio, tell him to get back here, I wanna talk to him." Dick walked out the door, a little of Moth's blood dripping from his suit onto the floor.

"Yes, sir, Nightwing," muttered Edward sarcastically.

Jason wasn't entirely sure what he was going to find down there, but he knew Bruce had hidden something on Arkham. Bruce had never told him, and by the looks of it, he hadn't told Dick either, but Jason had managed a brief download of a few files off the Batcomputer before it was destroyed by Ghūl's forces. Among them had been files mentioning the "Arkham asset storage."

It was one of the few things of Bruce that Jason had left, and it was nothing but a reminder of how paranoid and prepared the Batman was.

His radio crackled in his ear.

_"Red, it's Riddler. Nightwing wants to talk to you,and he's got that kinda calmly pissed off look in his eyes. You better get topside, now."_

Jason groaned in annoyance, wondering what "the favourite" wanted now.

Jason suddenly stopped dead, realiseing what he'd just called Dick.

"The favourite."

Bruce had never shown preferance for either one of them over the other, but for years, Jason had believed he was the least favourite, the least liked of the Robins. He hated himself a little for thinking like that, but Bruce had never been there as a father. He'd never been anything except Batman.

Bruce had used him as another pawn in his game against Gotham's crime, and he'd been sacrificed for the knights that would follow him, Damian and Tim.

Jason slapped himself again for thinking like that. Whether he liked it or not, Dick and these criminals were his only chance of survival anymore.

_"Red, you there? Hello?"_

Jason sighed, then tapped the radio.

"Yeah, I'm here, I'm fine. Tell Nightwi-, um, tell Dick I'll be topside in ten. The smell of a hundred years of crusted inmate shit is getting to me."

Jason walked through the doors into the main guard office and saw them all sitting around the table, even Deadshot, who was still nursing his broken leg. Killer Moth was the only one of them nowhere to be seen.

He sat down between Static and Harley, and Dick stood up.

"Okay, Drury is gonna be okay for now. Static, Harley and I fixed him up, but he'll be out of action for maybe two months."

"What about Bane?" asked Static.

"Even though we got what we went in there for, Bane got surrounded and killed."

An air of silence filled the room.

"People," said Dick. "We've gone through this, but right now we don't have time or energy to spend mourning Bane. He was a good soldier, but that's what happens in war."

"Well, Nighwing, I never asked to be a soldier," said Harley, standing up.

"No, you didn't. None of us asked to be where we are right now, but we no longer have a choice if we're going to survive."

Silence hung in the room again like a bad smell.

"Riddler, I need you analysing the data pack we got on the last mission. Harley, I'd like you to check up on Moth. Static, Anarky, and Floyd, I want you checking supplies. Jason, I need to talk to you."

Every slowly filtered out of the room with melancholy faces, except for Harley, who looked downright pissed at Nightwing. Only Jason and Dick remained.

"Why are you wasting time exploring sewers, Jason?" He asked, turning on him.

"Why the hell do you care, Grayson? It's not like we've got much else to do except check supplies and slowly keep dying. It was Bane tonight, last month we lost Huntress...who next?"

"Jason, stop it."

"Look, I know it's been hard for you this past year. It's been hard for all of us, what with Bruce and Tim and Damien...and Barbara-"

"Don't," said Dick, coldly interupting him. "Don't talk about them...about her..."

Jason saw only pain and exhastion on his brother's face as he pulled off Dick's tattered mask.

"Dick, I think Bruce hid something down in those tunnels, and I'm going to find it. But for now, you...you should, uh, rest easy..."

It wasn't every day that Jason actually acted nice.

Dick walked out of the room to the unnofficial "bedroom," and Jason sat down at the table and sighed.

They were losing.


	3. Chapter 3: Downtime

Harley sat next to Killer Moth's broken form, watching his chest rise and fall with every weak breath. Drury Walker had always been considered by most as just a second-string villian, but he'd realised that the city would be destroyed completely if he didn't join Nightwing and the others.

Harley knew that, even if it was only for one fleeting moment, Drury had enjoyed being the good guy for once.

She liked it too, sometimes. Only after the attack had she realised how truly she had loved a despicable man like Joker. He and his flunkies had run for their pathetic lives as soon as they could. The bastards hadn't counted on Rās knowing exactly where they went to hide and decapitating them all on TV as well.

She had realsied how stupid she'd been, killing for his attention, his approval.

Harley had nothing left except a chance at redeeming herself.

She felt good doing the heroic thing, but it was still hard.

They were on the edge of their very existence. Gotham was little more than an crumbling ruin invaded by servants of a demon. Killer Moth was a hero that could easily die soon. Bane was already gone. So was everyone else they'd fought with in the last five months.

The Atom, Blue Devil, Huntress, even Two-Face and Poison Ivy.

Harley shuddered remembering Ivy, feeling like crying.

She and everyone else had died for this miserable, brutal city.

They could all end up dead for Gotham.

Harley buried her face in her hands and sighed as Killer Moth kept struggling to breathe easily.

And she realised that sooner or later, they _would _end up dead for Gotham.

Anarky and Static sat on the floor in the guard storeroom. They were both barely older than kids.

Virgil preferred to only be called Static when he had his mask on. He didn't want to lose everything from his old life, least of all his name.

All they had left of childhood were memories, his name, and a necklace Virgil's mother had given him when he was thirteen.

He had only been in Gotham visiting Tim about some new equipment to be shipped to the recently christened Titans headquarters.

And sitting on the top of Wayne Tower with Tim and some hotdogs he'd picked up at a stall in the street below, Virgil had felt like he was part of something real, something that was worth fighting for.

But then the bombs had gone off. Hundreds had died in the streets below them and Wayne Tower nearly collapsed beneath them. He would have died without his powers propelling him off the roof and roughly but safely down onto a neighboring roof.

But he wasn't fast enough to catch Tim.

Wayne Tower now lay on one side with the corpses of it's former employess still rotting inside. There were almost no skyscrapers left in Gotham. The bombs had taken care of that.

And no matter how much Virgil tried, he couldn't get the image of Tim falling to the burning ground below, his body buried amongst the rubble and never found.

Anarky had only joined this team in order to survive a little longer. These consumerism-fueled criminals were horrid creatures, especially Nightwing. He and Batman and all the rest had fooled themselves in believing he was the hero, and millions had paid for his folly with their lives.

_Only by ridding ourselves of the dirt of corruption can we achieve true power, _he thought to himself.

Riddler and Deadshot sat quietly in the asylum's computer system center. Edward typed furiously at the keyboard trying to unlock the data on the chip they'd gone to steal, the one Bane had died getting, while Floyd calmly disassembled his prized rifle and reassembled it several times over.

"Damn it," muttered Edward, banging the table.

"Hey, hey, easy, Nygma. You can't just go up to a computer system and expect it to work for ya. Ya gotta treat it like a sexy chick. You buy her a drink, tell her she's hot a million times, put up the "sensitive guy" act, then before you know it, she's waking up next to you and you're promising her you'll call back."

"Mister Lawton, if you really insist on talking while I'm working, please talk about soemthing other than your helplessly pathetic dating tips."

"Hey! That is a proven technique, Eddie. You do what I tell you and you'll be swimming in sex in a matter of days."

"This may come as a surprise to you, Floyd," said Edward, turning slightly to look at the assassin, "but getting the girl isn't my priority right now."

"Oh, yeah, you've got all your attention on the violent army of ninjas occupying Gotham. How could I have overlooked that?"

"Just let me work in some peace and quiet, Deadshot," said edward, going back to his still-failing attempt at breaking into the system.

Dick lay back and slept a restless sleep. It was his first in a long, long time, but that didn't help at all.

Neither did the nightmares.

All he ever saw when he closed his eyes was Barbara glancing at him with a look of nothing but sadness in her eyes, and then the flames enveloping her as the Batcave collapsed and fell around them. Jason had had to pull him away so that they could escape the emergency exit before the bombing stopped and the footsoldiers ame for them. Alfred had told them simply to go, and not look back. He'd collected a shotgun from his room, then marched up the stairs.

As Jason and Dick had been rushing through the escape tunnel, all they had heard were gunshots and then a yell, then nothing.

_It's your fault, Dick...you could have held them off and told Alfred to go with Jason...you could've found some way of tracking Bruce and Damien before R__ā__s murdered them...You could've pulled Barbara out of the way...it's all your fault and you know it, Dick...you murdered the woman you loved..._

Dick woke with a violent and panicked cry, sweating bullets.

All he saw now was Barbara, and the look in her eyes, just before the flames...

And all he could do was suffer, becuase he felt beyond anything else that one fact above all others consumed him.

He felt he was right in feeling guilty for Barbara's death.

He felt almost as if he deserved it.


	4. Chapter 4: Knowing

"It's a warhead," said Nygma, simply. "Rās Al Ghūl has a nuclear warhead with a blast radius of seven miles...big enough to destroy most large cities."

He said this only to Dick, no one else was present. It was only half an hour ago that Nygma had cracked the code on the data file, and then he'd quietly radioed Dick and told him everything.

"Why does Rās need an atom bomb powerful enough to destroy an entire city?" asked Dick, quietly.

"My guess, he wants to destroy an entire city, Dick." Edward leaned back in his chair and let out a breath. "But I have no idea which one. The only options I can think of are New York...or Metropolis."

"Ever since his army killed Superman, Metropolis has gotten almost as violent and criminal as Gotham once was," agreed Dick.

"So...what do we do, boss?"

Dick paused for a second, before turning to walk out the door.

"I don't know."

Jason woke to Harley shaking him awake.

"Red...Red, it's Dick. Eddie found what was on that file, and Dick's called a meeting about it."

Jason groaned, before slowly climbing out of his bunk and following her to Dick's meeting.

Drury Walker's eyes flickered open, and he took in bright, blinding lights and repetitive sounds, and an aching dryness in his mouth.

"Wha...waterr..." he coughed, gasping slightly as he looked around with some difficulty.

He was in the asylum's medical building, in the surgical ward. Virgil sat next to him in an old chair, his head drooped on his chest as he slept.

"Ver...Verge...Virgill...Virgil..." he gasped again, and the young hero beside him yawned and looked up at Drury.

"Oh, jeez, Drury, it's good to see you awake," he said, gently patting the injured man's shoulder.

"Wah...water, please..."

"Oh, yeah, sorry...I must've dozed off..." Virgil stood up biefly and walked over to the water cooler on the other side of the room, filling a cup before walking back over.

Drury eagerly drank much of it in a few gulps, before Virgil drew his hand away.

"Not so faster, Drury, you'll make yourself sick."

Drury waited until the cup was returned to his mouth, before drinking slower.

"What...happened..?" he asked, feeling a little less weak.

"You got shot, Moth. We got what we went in for, but we had to go fast as in order to get you out in time."

"Anyone else...hurt..?"

"Bane's gone, Moth."

Drury sighed, and looked away.

Bane had never been a friend of his, or anyone for that matter, but he'd still been part of the team.

He was now just another name to be written on a monument.

And Drury hoped his name wouldn't suffer the same fate.

"Rās Al Ghūl has armed himself with a nuclear warhead capable of destroying an entire city," said Dick to everyone as they sat motionless around the table. Even Drury was there, having been lifted slowly into a wheelchair and pushed to the meeting by Virgil.

"Well, Dick, in case you haven't noticed, he's already destroyed half of Gotham, and the rest of it is filled with all his goons," said Deadshot, his leg now mostly healded and no longer in a splint.

"Dick and I believe his target is Metropolis," said Edward, leaning fowards in his chair.

"It makes sense," said Virgil. "Now that Superman's gone, it's become yet another crime-ridden paradise. It's like New York after dark over there."

"So, how a re we going to stop Rās using the nuke?" said Drury, rolling towards Dick.

Dick paused, knowing full well what his answer had to be, but not sure whether it should be.

"We don't," he said simply.

Harley, Virgil, and Drury gasped. Edward looked at his feet, not willing to show anyone the shame of his suggestion carved on his face. Deadshot, Anarky, and Jason simply sat still.

"Our weapons, our equipment...all the supplies we have left aren't nearly enough to take on that army. Chances are, Rās will have the whole place holding the warhead locked down with enough armed guards to occupy Paris. Drury is still half dead, Edward has no weapons or combat training, Deadshot's still injured...We just don't have what it takes to take him on."

"So what the hell do we do, Dick?" said Harley, standing up angrily.

"We run. We send messages to the Justice Society, the Teen Titans, and any remaining Justice League members, telling them to evacuate Metropolis immediatly, and then we get ourselves out of Gotham...permenantly."

Everyone looked at each other, mixed looks of realisation and horror dawning on their faces.

"No."

Dick turned to Jason.

"What?"

"No," repeated Jason as he stood up. "I am not going to abandon Gotham."

"Neither am I," said Drury.

"Jason, Drury...we have no choice," began Dick, but Jason cut him off.

"Remember your parents, Dick? They were murdered by people...villians like Rās. And you swore to get justice, to avenge your aprents, just like me when Joker...when Joker killed me...I came back looking to take revenge on everybody who'd done wrong by me..."

"My mom and dad were killed by the mob, not mercenaries and eco-terrorists."

"Doesn't matter, Dick," said Drury. "You call yourselves heroes because you bring hope and you fight for truth and justice. I was a villian because, I guess...deep down, I wanted to do the right thing too, but my belief in 'the right thing' was flawed. Yours wasn't. Everybody here wants to do nothing more than the right thing. We want justice."

"If we even try to do this, we die trying, alright? We die, and Metropolis burns," said Edward, pointing at Drury.

"So what if we die trying? At least we die doing the right thing. And if I die doing anything..." Drury struggled to talk as he slowly lifted himself out of his chair and onto his weak legs, "...I'll die bringing hope, and fighting for truth and justice."

Everyone looked at him, before Jason walked out of the room.

"Look, Nightwing," Drury said, walking slowly towards the young hero. "You seem to be suggesting that we give up. But let me ask you this: in this moment, at this very second...would the Batman have decided what you have?"


	5. Chapter 5: Discoveries

**Okay, hello, just an author's note. I was unaware of the double spacing system in place, and so the pacing of the story in those last few chapters has kinda failed, sorry. So, from now on, I'll recitify it as best I can. Apologies for any inconvenience or confusions.**

**Cheers,**

**TheGhostOfLostBoys.**

Dick sat alone in his room.

_They think I've still got a plan._

_They still have hope in me...my leadership skills._

_There's no plan, not even half a plan..._

_We can only run..._

_It's over..._

A knock on the door brought Dick out of his moment of hopelessness.

"Yeah? Come in."

Harley opened the door quietly.

"Dick, you gotta come see this," she said.

"See what?"

"We got a call."

"A call?" Dick rose to his feet. "From who?"

"Someone named...Tim Drake."

The image was blurred, the resolution barely worth mentioning, but the young man on the screen was Tim. Jason and Dick looked at each other, then back at the screen. Virgl just stood there in awe.

"How in holy freakin' hell are you still alive, Tim?" said Jason.

It pretty much sumed up everything everyone had to say.

_"Well, it's great to see you too, Jason," _he said, smiling.

"Tim...I saw you fall off a building..." said Virgil.

_"I had my suit on when the building collapsed, and my wings activated just before I hit the ground. After that, I tried making contact with the cave, Oracle's base in the clocktower, Titans Tower, even the Justice League watchtower. No response. So, I ran for it. Hid myself in one of Bruce's old emergency bunkers for a few weeks, before getting kicked out by some mercenaries and getting forced out. I ended up in the industrial district, and I eventually found some old friends."_

Even Nygma, who had gained a reputation for being very calm and level headed in most scenarios, gasped when Black Mask and Mister Freeze walked up behind Tim.

_"Hiya, Riddler," _said Black mask, leaning into the webcamera. _"Long time, no see."_

_"We've been hidden in Black Mask's base for several months now, along with at least a hundred of his armed gang members, and with young Red Robin here collecting digital intel on __R__ā__s Al Gh__ū__l's actions throughout the city," _said Freeze from behind Tim. _"I assume you already know about the warhead."_

"I'm assuming that's why you've contacted us," said Edward.

"Why now? Why not months ago, Tim?" asked Dick, a level of frustration in his voice.

_"R__ā__s has computer specialists too, Dick. We've only risked contacting you now because it's taken so long getting all the digital security needed to contact you without getting pinged and blown to pieces. Not to mention the fact that, with an eco-terrorist wielding a nuke, time is of the essence."_

"So what do we do now?" said Jason.

_"We must act, soon, or Metropolis falls. How we act, I do not know," _said Freeze calmly.

"I do," said Jason, before turning to Dick. "I know Bruce hid something in the sewers beneath this place. If we can find it, we might have a chane of stopping Rās."

"Jason, there's nothing down-"

_"Wait," _said Tim, peering closer into the camera. _"Did you just say something about the Arkham cave?"_

"The Arkham what?"

_"Many years ago, Bruce had a secret emergency cave built in the caverns beneath the asylum. It's small, and it was damaged during Joker's island takeover a few years ago, but it should hold supplies, maybe even weapons or vehicles."_

"Bruce built an entire freaking spare Batcave on Arkham Island, and he never told me about it?!" yelled Dick, his frustration and exhastion reaching tipping points. "How the hell did you even know, Tim?"

_"Hacked into the Batcomputer two years ago, read about it."_

"Jesus, Tim."

_"The point is, you need to find that cave so we can figure out how to use it best and stop R__ā__s Al Gh__ū__l."_

Black Mask backed up suddenly from the screen. _"Whoa, whoa, whoah, kids. I'm no superhero, and I'd prefer it if we didn't go trying to get ourselves killed on a suicide mission."_

"Then don't come, Roman," said Jason bluntly. "Stay hidden in your hidey-hole with your army while Gotham and Metropolis both burn."

_"He's got a point,"_ agreed Tim.

"Jason, you take Harley, Virgil, and Anarky, and start searching the sewer system for the cave," said Dick.

_"What do you want us to do?" _said Tim.

Dick looked up at the screen, and smiled for the first time in months, because for the first time in months, he had hope.

"Rally the troops."

Virgil nearly vomited when he stepped down off the ladder into the sewers.

"Urgh, smells like the morning after Mardi Gra down here," he said. Anarky and Harley just looked at him with a vague look of it's-not-that-bad etched on there faces.

"The cave can't be that far away," said Jason, looking ahead inot the darkness and pulling an old flashlight from his belt. "Bruce did try his hardest to make things a challenge, but if it was built as a backup, he would've wanted the path to be easy enough to reach for someone injured."

"Great, that just about narrows it down to about two hundred square miles of sewerage to explore," said Harley, scraping crud off her shoe.

"Greeeaaat," muttered Virgil, looking green.

"This way, I think," said Jason, heading west with the group walking carefully behind him.

Drury sat alone, his battered and cracked Killer Moth helmet in his hands. For the most part, he'd recovered from his physical injuries. The bullet shot had been a clean shot, no major internal damage, no organ or spinal damage.

But the scars on the inside...they were still stuck there, still carved into his mind and hanging there like a dead animal in a slaughterhouse. He couldn't ignore it...couldn't escape from it.

He wasn't a hero.

But he didn't want to be a villain either.

_What am I..?_ he thought to himself, turning the helmet over in his hands.

_I've killed people...tried to killed Batman...and Dick, back when he was Robin...even tried killing Harley once..._

_I'm not a hero. Heroes inspire good, inspire hope._

_At best, the Killer Moth inspired mild confusion._

_At worst...I was a joke. Inspiration for jokes, for insults..._

_"Wannabe Firefly," bug-brained, second-string villain with a glorified glue gun and striped green and purple pants..._

"What am I..?" he said aloud, sighing.

He paused, looking into the orange, one-way lenses of his helmet. He'd made it on a budget, buying the lenses and fabric from a cheap fabric and arts store downtown.

_I'm not a villain..._ he thought, staring into those orange eyes.

_I will not be the villain..._

He slowly turned the helmet around and placed on his head, breathing in the mild mustiness and the dank smell.

"I am Killer Moth..."

_I am a hero._


	6. Chapter 6: Skyline

**Hey there, another author's note about the spacing. My last attempt to fix it failed, so from now on I'll be changing my chapters so there's no problems. This may make them shorter, but I can't do anything other than apologise. Sorry especially for the short length of this chapter.**

**Also, I'm really very sorry about how long this took to get out, but more are coming as soon as possible.**

**Cheerio,**

**-TheGhostOfLostBoys**

When he was a young boy, travelling with the circus, Dick would often look forward to going to big cities, almost always because of the skyscrapers. He and his parents would take a break from rehearsals eaqch time they were in a new city, and climb to the highest building in the city just to look out over the twinkling skyline.

And when they died, and Bruce Wayne took Dick in, Dick would often spend entire nights on the rooftop of Wayne Manor, hoping to feel the same way, and see the silhouette of Gotham against the moonlight. It made him feel a little less lost, and it let him hold on to his parents a little longer, even if only in spirit.

Now, Dick sat with his back against brick, as he sat on the asylum's massive clocktower, watching the dark city. There was almost no light anymore, just vague shapes of skyscrapers. Shadows against the night, like tall, hulking figures standing over Gotham.

The light of the city came only from the Bowery district, where the League of Assassin's had built up their main base in Gotham. Hundreds, maybe thousands of civilians were imprisioned there, as well as the warhead.

As he looked out over Gotham, Dick could only think of all he had lost. Bruce and Alfred had been like fathers to him, and Tim, Jason, and Damien has been like brothers.

_A wild family of birds, _Barbara had once called the group of them.

And then all he could think of was Barbara.

_I failed her,_ he thought. _I failed Bruce, Alfred, Damien...everyone. If I'd done the right thing...the whole skyline would be lit up..._

Dick rested his head in his hands.

He'd done nothing but torture himself since the League had attacked. He couldn't let go of all his failures, all his mistakes, even though it burned him up inside

_"Dick...Dick? Nightwing, you there?"_

Dick sighed, looking out over the dark skyline, before tapping his earpiece.

"I'm here, Jason."

_"We found it."_

Dick, paused to look over the city again.

_I failed Gotham..._

_I failed her..._

_But...now I might get the chance to bring things back..._

He looked towards the Bowery, and made his decision.

"I'm coming, Jason."


	7. Chapter 7: Testament

"We searched for hours, but we finally managed to find it," said Virgil, dim torchlight in hand, as Dick and everyone else followed close behind. "And we're extremely lucky Tim managed to get the emergency entrance codes."

They turned a corner in the dank cavern, water dripping above them, and came face to face with a solid steel door. Dick walked forwards, and clicked the panel beside it.

"Passcode: Odysseus-three-five-niner-two-November."

A deep clanging sound erupted from inside the door, and the steel swung open before them, leading into a dark passage. Dick looked to his team, then back into the darkness.

"Stay here for now. I'll check it out."

He slowly inched forwards into the passage, and in the distance ahead of him, he heard rushing water and the screech of animals.

He walked slowly, and with purpose, stepping carefully in case of booby-traps. He peered into the dark, and Dick managed to see a dull light at the end of the tunnel. He walked closer, and his feet shifted from the cavern's rocky ground to what felt like a metal walkway.

The rushing water became louder in his ears, growing louder and louder as he moved closer, until it became deafening as he emerged from the tunnel. He must have triggered a motion snesor, because at that moment, three massive spotlight burst into life, illuminating the cave.

"Holy shit, Bruce."

Dick was without words.

The cavern was massive, and the sounds of the waterfall mixed with the screehing of bats, and they echoed through the brightly lit cave. Four titanic metal platforms took up that space, and connected themselves with more walkways. The central platform held a huge computer system, almost the same size as that which had taken pride of place in the Batcave beneath Wayne Manor. On the other platforms were piles of Wayne Enterprises containers, and an industrial strength generator churning power through the whole cave. Above himself, what looked like one of the Batplanes hung from the ceiling, and Dick could see a small weapons armoury on one of the lower platforms. The entire metal structure was suspended above the deep abyss below by huge steel cables and long metallic fixtures that clung to the cave walls.

"Holy shit, Dick," said a voice behind him. Jason and the others walked into the cave and stood behind him. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Arkham cave."

Jason, Edward, and Dick immediatly headed to the computer, while the others explored the cave.

"Is this thing still working?" asked Edward, tapping the keyboard. Before Dick could answer, the screen flashed into life, the computer whirring as it came alive. Edward quickly began running a system search, trying to find anything of use. "Hopefully, Wayne backed up all the files from the computer in he original cave before it was destroyed."

Jason looked up, and spotted the Batplane. "Dibs on the plane, Dick."

"You ain't got dibs on jackshit, Red," called out Virgil from behind him. "I got the Batplane."

"Men," muttered Harley, shaking her head.

"Did he back up his files?" asked Dick.

"Looks like. But there's a lot of stuff on here I can't identify."

"Like?"

Edward turned to Dick, before clicking a file marked as "Grayson, Richard."

"Like this," said Edward, turning back to the screen as a play button showed up on screen. "Maybe it's a file on you."

"Play it," said Jason, huddling close to the screen.

Edward tapped the play button, and the screen turned to a video of Bruce. It was the first time Dick or Jason had seen his face since he'd died.

_"This is File Designation: November-Whiskey five-five-two Delta, marked as 'Grayson, Richard.' Dick...this is both a will in case I pass away, and a personal message to you._

_"In the event of my death, all my personal and private assets are to be split between Alfred J. Pennyworth, Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Timothy Drake, Barbara Gordon, Cassandra Cain, Kate Kane, Damien Wayne, and Selina Kyle. Wayne Manor, and the grounds it is built on, is to be given to these nine people as well, with ownership going to them. Wayne Enterprises is to be placed under the control of Lucius Fox or, in the event of his death, Timothy Drake, Kate Kane, and Barbara Gordon._

_"Finally, this is a personal message to you, Dick. There are similar ones in the computer systems for everyone else."_

Dick was almost on the verge of tears.

_"Dick, you were my first Robin, one of my best friends, and, like Jason and Tim and Damien and Babs...you were like my own child. You are my son, Dick, and I owe the world to you. Every time you were around, you rbought me back. You and everyone else helped me see that justice doesn't always have to come though vengeance, and that...that light doesn't always have to come hand in hand with darkness. It took me years to become Batman...but you helped plart of Bruce Wayne stay with me._

_"Therefore, as my final act during this will, I pass the mantle of the Bat over to you, Dick. I have no doubts in my mind that you will do just a good a job as I did...probably better._

_"I...I'm so proud of you, Dick."_

The video stopped, and Dick looked out into the darkness, hiding his face from Jason.

He didn't have to. Jason knew he was crying.

"Dick...in the end, he was proud of you. Of us."

Dick stood on the edge of the platform, looking out into the inky baclness of the rest of the cave, where the light did not reach.

"Bruce didn't care about our past mistakes. All he cared about was what we did with our futures."

Dick breathed in, then turned around to face Jason. He walked over slowly, coming to a stop in front of him, before he took his brother in his arms and hugged him.

Jason wasn't usually on either end of a hiug, but he hugged Dick back, before they both pulled away.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked.

Dick looked over to the other platforms, seeing his team looking over to him.

"We save this city." he turned to Edward, who was still sitting at the computer desk. "Can you get Tim on here, and set it so that Rās can't track either one of us?"

"Dick, who do you think you're talking to? 'Course I can."

"We could also try linking up to the Justice League satellite, see if anyone's up there," said Drury, walking up behind them.

"Okay, let's do it," said Dick.

It took some time, but Edward managed to link up with Tim.

_"Good to see you guys again, in a slightly more Batcave-ish location."_

"We found the Arkham cave, and we've secure this transmission line. Rās ain't coming anywhere near this," said Edward, smiling to himself. "I'm still trying to get a signal from the satellite."

"Maybe they aren't there," suggested Drury.

"Or maybe they're being careful."

Then, Edward cried out in victory as the screen switched to a view of both the satellite and a very shocked looking John Stewart, one of the many Green Lanterns.

_"Holy shit...Nightwing? Red Hood? We thought you were dead, or captured by R__ā__s Al Gh__ū__l."_

"Not yet, we're not," said Jason.

_"Quick question, though. Why is Riddler sitting at the desk, and why is Killer Moth, Harley Quinn, Deadshot, and Anarky all standing in the background?"_

"John, it's okay. They're on our side now," explained Dick. "Hold on, we're gonna try and link you up with Red Robin. He's been hiding in the industrial district with balck mask and Mister Freeze."

_"Well, I'm glad things are so clear now."_

Tim's face appeared on the satellite's screen as well.

"Who else is up there with you in the satellite, John?" asked Jason.

_"There's me, Supergirl, Batwoman, and Shazam up here at the moment. The others are back on Earth. That's Green Arrow, Guy Gardner, Balck Canary, and Jay Garrick."_

"You mean the first Flash?"

_"Yeah. I'll get them over here talking to you guys."_

Before long, Supergirl, Batwoman, Shazam and John were crowded around the screen, and Dick was relieved to see Batwoman, because her survival meant that he, Tim, and Jason were not the only masked heroes of Gotham to survive.

Dick, Tim, and Edward all explained the situation to them as quickly as possible.

_"Okay then, but even if we could get within the city limits undetected in order to help you take R__ā__s down, we wouldn't be able to get to the Bowery," _said Supergirl, sighing with frustration.

"Why not?" asked Virgil.

_"Word is, R__ā__s has hired Prometheus to overlook his security detail."_

"Prometheus? Man, I hate that guy," muttered Jason.

_"Prometheus used to be little more than a B-class villain,"_ explained Batwoman. _"But after the League first encountered him, they realised just how dangerous he is. He's got profiles and analysis files on almost every known superhero on the planet, all downloaded directly into his brain. His suit is one of the most cutting edge pieces of technology I've ever seen. Even Bruce had trouble going toe-to-toe with Prometheus."_

"With Prometheus running the security in the Bowery, the whole place'll be secure against super-powers," Dick realised.

_"Yep," _saidShazam, awkwardly running his fingers through his hair. _"Everything from kryptonite to Sinestro Corps power batteries to dark magic based enchantments, and everything in between, all provided by the League of Assassins's wealth and Prometheus's knowledge."_

Dick paused. "Is there any chance we could get in? Apart from Virgil, none of us have powers."

_"Yeah, you can go for it..." _said Green Lantern, _"...if you're feeling suicidal."_

"Only in the mornings, John," laughed Jason, loading one of his last clips into his pistol before starting to walk towards the Batplane.

"Jason, where're you going?" asked Dick, walking after him.

"Hey, it's like you said, Dick. We gotta save this city, so we might as well go now."

"We need a plan."

"Really? I've been winging it since I came back from the dead," laughed Jason. "Worked so far."

"We need a plan."

_"And I think I've got one, guys,"_ said Tim from the screen. _"You two are lucky I'm here to do the thinking."_

"I'll ignore that, Tim," said Dick, walking back to the computer screen. "What've you got in mind?"

_"I'll explain everything, but first things first. I was going though the Batcomputer files, and I found a program connected to the file with your name on it."_ Tim tapped away at his keyboard, before pressing the space bar and smiling.

A powerful neon light slammed on from somewhere above, directed at a corner space opposite the computers, and a metallic screech echoed through the cave. The floor below the corner lifted up, and a steel and glass container erupted from the floor, rising up until fully emerged. Small lights flickered on from inside, and Dick gasped.

It was a Batsuit, and it was unlike any other Dick had seen.

_"I had a quick look through the specs. It's specifically made and fitted for you, and it looks like Bruce did his research on how you move. It's designed to accomodate your more acrobatic, speed-and-agility based combat. As such, it is much lighter, with less armor, and the cape is designed to not be a hassle. The cowl is also fitted with a encrypted radio system, and a self contained HUD for analysis and CSI, all programmed into the cowl. Also, the suit's gauntlets have their own grapnel launchers, as opposed to holding a seperate grapnel gun on the belt."_

As Tim continued, Dick could only stare at the beautifully crafted suit held before him within the container.

_"The utility belt holds a mixture of Batman and Nightwing equipment, with a focus on minimal equipment in order to stay as lightweight as possible. As such, equipment includes batarangs, eskrima sticks, smoke and flashbang grenades, lightweight medical and lockpicking kits, miniature explosives, and other small tools. In other words, Dick, it's a perfect fit."_

"So,"said Jason, resting his hand on Dick's shoulder. "Whaddya think?"

"I think we've got a shot at winning now."


	8. Chapter 8: Demon

**Author's note:**

**Before you start telling me how much these next few chapters take off from Firefly and Serenity, I'll tell you now: yes, I've written R****ā****s Al Gh****ū****l in a way similar to Serenity's The Operative, and yes, these references were intentional.**

**I all hope you're enjoying this story, and I will be finished with it soon.**

**Cheerio,**

**-TheGhostOfLostBoys**

Rās Al Ghūl was always a man who saw little in the world except sin. And seemingly everyone but him was guilty of one or more sin, especially when it came to taking action, and doing what was necessaryto restore balance to the natural world.

Humanity was greedy and lazy, lustful and envious and gluttonous, fuelled by barbaric rage and simple-minded pride.

Gotham was a city that, before his forces had taken it, had bled greed and anger and envy.

Metropolis was just as bad, but in entirely different ways. It was a city fueled by gluttony, sloth, and lust, and pride above all else.

And he was none of those things. Rās Al Ghūl was many things, but he did not see himself as an sinful man.

He believed, with every fibre of his being, that to create a world without inbalance, he must first bring about a world without sin.

Taking Gotham was only one of hundreds of steps towards that goal. Decimating Metropolis was another. In previous centuries, Rās had taken much slower and more subtle approches to achieving his dream, but the time had come for strength over stealth.

He stood on the balcony of what had previously been the Bowery's large police precinct, which he had taken as his new base of operations.

This city was now part of his wolrd without sin, and it would remain so.

"Master," said a voice behind him. His loyal and eternal servant, Ubu, rushed to his side, an assault rifle in hand.

"Yes, Ubu? What troubles you tonight?"

"Master...they are coming."

"Who? Those pathetic idealists and sorry attempts at redemption? I thought there were less than a dozen of them now. What threat could they pose?"

"A threat numbering about two hundred armed thugs," muttered Prometheus, standing on Rās's other side.

"What?"

"The little bastard calling himself Nightwing has gotten himself an army, maybe two hundred criminals, all armed to the teeth, and it looks like they're on loan from Black Mask, given what they're wearing and how they're armed," Prometheus said, smirking beneath his helmet.

"They are headed straight for us, sir."

"Prepare the soldiers," exclaimed Rās, drawing a sword from within his long cloak. "I want the mercenaries in front, with the heavy weapons. My assassins will take up postitions behind, and I want my honour guard protecting the warhead."

"Very good, Master," said Ubu, before turning to walk away.

"Ubu? I want you to lead the charge with the assassins. Prometheus and my daughter can oversee the honour guard."

"Very good, Master."


End file.
